


Patrol Disorder / Preserve Comfort

by Donvex



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Detective AU, Detective Roger Davis, Detective Tapp - Freeform, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, mostly it establishes a universe and focuses on their interactions, not plot heavy, some background mavinsay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donvex/pseuds/Donvex
Summary: The CID in Austin feels tighter knit than the one in Boston, but then again, the division is also significantly smaller. It’s part of why Jeremy had transferred in the first place - they were picking up cases like crazy, and the teams were just too small to stay on top of the skyrocketing crime rates.Some people are literallyrunningthrough the office, jesus christ.





	Patrol Disorder / Preserve Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the AH detective personalities introduced in the dead by daylight let's play found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JnNvHB8XLI&t=2s)
> 
> The layout of the office is based on the set up of the Brooklyn 99 office. I created an abridged version of their floor plan for myself to stay consistent, and to keep track of desk locations, but if you’re interested you can see it [here.](https://ibb.co/PCv7Jmk)

The heat is going to kill him.

 

In hindsight, maybe wearing a full suit, even on the first day, wasn’t necessary when that first day was mostly travel and introductions.

 

Still, Jeremy had wanted to look the part and impress whoever was picking him up. He doesn’t regret the decision now, as he reads over the texts he had missed while in flight and notices that his ride is the station’s Police Corporal.

 

He’s only off the plane long enough to slip his phone back into his pocket and nag his luggage before she’s spotted him, and he only knows this because she’s talking at him before he’s even had the chance to turn around, let alone introduce himself.

 

“Oh my god, you’re going to wither in this humidity if you dress like that every day.” Jeremy  finally gets the chance to face his boss, or _one_ of his bosses. She’s wearing standard dress pants and the short-sleeved version of their uniform button up, even though she could definitely get away with wearing whatever kind of dress shirt or blouse she wanted. Her blonde hair is pulled up and back into a ponytail, secured tightly with a thin but _definitely pink_ headband.

 

She’s definitely more prepared for the Austin weather than he is.

 

(And she should be, considering she lives there and all.)

 

Jeremy holds his arms out in a vague shrugging gesture. “What can I say? I wanted to push myself.” The Corporal grins brightly at him, and Jeremy feels comfortably stable for having just uprooted his life to move halfway across the country just for work.

 

“Well, at least you’ll fit right in with Michael. Wore a whole suit his first day too, plus a tie.” She pats him once on the shoulder, and _heavily_ too, before taking her hand back only to offer it to Jeremy. They shake, and she introduces herself as Lindsay. Jeremy gives her his name, as if she doesn’t already know, and she nods before leading him out the airport’s exit. “We appreciate your willingness to transfer. I don’t take it there’s any other underlying reasons for your wanting to come to Austin at the end of June?”

 

It isn’t far from the baggage claim to the curb. By this point, they’re already outside, waiting for the parking lot shuttle. Jeremy has his duffel bag by his feet, filled with a few pairs of clothes and some bathroom essentials. He thinks of the rest of his stuff, which is supposedly set to arrive by truck in two days. He thinks of his cats, who aren’t going to be brought down until his parents decide to visit him, likely some time in August. He thinks of the Boston workforce, driven by ambition and a desperate need to survive. And he thinks, perhaps most importantly, about how much he loves what he does.

 

“No other reason,” he says, “Just wanting to do some good where it’s needed.”

 

///

 

The CID in Austin feels tighter knit than the one in Boston, but then again, the division here is also significantly smaller. It’s part of why Jeremy had transferred in the first place - they were picking up cases like crazy, and the teams were just too small to stay on top of the skyrocketing crime rates.

 

Some people are literally _running_ through the office, jesus christ.

 

“No one man should be forced to juggle six files in a single week,” Jeremy huffs out, remembering how busy _three_ file weeks were. He knows that crime rates pick up in the summer, especially in locations with high temperatures, but this is _ridiculous._ “Shouldn’t crime rates be peaking at an eleven percent increase?” He had done his research before accepting the position, and he knew these rates were unaverage for this precinct. Still, it hadn’t hit him until _this moment_ what that would actually look like, and now he feels kinda underprepared.

 

Lindsey continues walking past the reception and into the bullpen, oblivious to his doubt, and immediately takes a sharp left. “They should be peaking even lower than that, looking at our past records, but we’ve managed to reach a fourteen percent increase this summer - which is why we’re so short staffed right now. We don’t know where the sudden burst in activity is coming from, and you’re only the second transfer to arrive. We’re expecting one more over the course of the week, and we’re hoping that a week after that, you’ll all feel settled enough to pick up at least some of the minor incidents. It’s not even that we’re faced with particularly large or complex criminal activity - just an overabundance of it. Sometimes three or four convenience store robberies can lead to more paperwork than a singular bank heist, y’know?” Jeremy nods as he listens, and they arrive rather quickly at a set of mostly empty desks.

 

“This’ll be your new home, Dooley. Your neighbor is Matt Bragg, he arrived two days ago. I suggest you take a walk around the office and introduce yourself - you can pick out your own tour guide.”

 

Jeremy raises a brow at that. “They just gonna let me up and pull them away from their work?”

 

“They could use a break. Besides,” Lindsey lowers her voice just enough for dramatic effect, “I already gave the order. Whoever you choose as a babysitter has to take the job. The question of ‘who’ just relies on you. Keep up the energy.” There’s a glint in her eyes, and she may _say_ energy, but Jeremy abso-fucking- _lutely_ hears chaos. Her lips are pressed together in a tight line to keep her from laughing - or perhaps from cackling, Jeremy suspects. He watches her back as she walks away, and he definitely gets why she has the position she does, that’s for sure.

 

She scares the _shit_ outta him.

 

///

 

Neighbor Matt Brag shows up some ten minutes later, while Jeremy kicks his to-go back under his desk and pulls out the few things he knew would be taken right to work. They shake hands, give quick introductions, and bond over being the newest members of the team.

 

Jeremy starts his personal, self-guided tour with the corner of the room, next to where Lindsay had vanished to. He introduces himself to Jon, the Civilian Administrator, and then to Steffie and Larry in front of him, the Evidence Technicians. The conversations are relatively brief, with so much information to take in so quickly, but everyone treats him kindly despite their heavy workload. A few of the desks are empty, and a few people give him a friendly wave but don’t find time to stop. He ends up in the kitchen, which is mostly vacant, save for one man at the counter.

 

“Coffee?”

 

He figures this is a safe bet, the one language every officer speaks.

 

“Nope.”

 

The conversation is immediately shut down. Jeremy stops and blinks a few times. He thought it had been friendlier here, but maybe not. “Is coffee sharing not a thing around here, or… ?”

 

The man laughs. “No, you knob, it’s not coffee. I’m making tea.”

 

Jeremy vaguely starts to register the accent, and boy, does he already feel like all his buttons are gonna be pushed.

 

“You couldn’t have been more specific?”

 

“I could’ve.”

 

Jeremy swears he’s going to smack this guy’s snickering face, but then said guy is putting out his hand, so Jeremy decides to shake it instead of swat it. “Name’s Gavin. You’re Dooley, right? We’ve been told lots ‘bought you. Just thought you’d be a little bit taller, s’all.”

 

“You annoying bastard.”

 

“Come on now, Lil J, why you gotta be so mean to me?”

 

“Because I already know I’m gonna hate you.” Gavin just beams, acts like they’ve been working together since they left the academy, and Jeremy hates how quickly he’s endeared by that. He lets out a sigh. “Now come on, show me around the office. I choose you, or whatever.” Gavin lets out a resounding _whoop!_ before throwing his arm over Jeremy’s shoulders, and Jeremy realizes that maybe _he_ isn’t the one being babysat. “Come on, J, let me show you everything.”

 

///

 

The main floor isn’t too hard to memorize. They check out a few of the floors above them, but most of their time is spent around the bullpen desks, looping in and out of everybody else’s conversations.

 

“Hey. What’s with trench coat over there?”

 

“Huh?” Jeremy points, and Gavin looks over to the desk with a large trench coat thrown over the back of the chair, a few knives stuck in a can like pencils, and a head ducked down way too close to the screen to be good for him. It’s way more old fashioned than anybody else here is dressed, and Jeremy knows their titles are technically all _Detective_ , but come _on_. “Oh, that’s Ryan. He’s a freak for sure.”

 

Jeremy takes a second, and then cackles at the blunt description. “O-kay, guess that sums that up.”

 

“You’ll figure that one out on your own, trust me. Now come on, let me take you to my boi!” Gavin takes him by the wrist, and Jeremy, already used to being manhandled by this guy, lets himself be lead to the break to meet Gavin’s boi.

 

///

 

The tour ends, though Gavin’s tendency to come over and bug him does not, and Jeremy spends the rest of the day setting up his desk until Matt nudges their shoulders together. “Come on, new guy. It’s past five, shifts over. Whoever doesn’t have night duty’s gonna be headed over to Rooster & Waffles by now.”

 

Gavin had told him about this. It’s a nightly tradition, to hit up the diner that’s really… more of a bar, and to shoot the shit there until they’re tired or called back to work. Outside of the booze, it’s mostly a chicken and waffles place. Jeremy’s pretty sure they only started going because they got a discount there. After that, it had been the defeat. Officers liked routine, simple as that. And Jeremy is a _great_ officer. “Yeah, oka- wait a sec. You’re just as new as me!”

 

Matt smiles and shrugs. “I’m two days older than you here, which makes you the new guy.”

 

“You’re both newbies, let’s go already!” Geoff holds out the _y_ like a whine, waiting by the entrance to the bullpen. “Why does nobody listen to me around here?”

 

“Because you make it easy, Geoffrey!” Gavin’s voice carries all the way from the front door, and Jeremy rolls his eyes as he makes his way towards the entrance. Geoff shouts back at Gavin and tries to wrestle him in the parking lot, and Jeremy just laughs with Matt along the way. Yeah, it already feels like routine.

 

///

 

The diner is warm.

 

The bartop is made of dark wood, sleek and sealed in polish. The panelled walls are lined with booths, the muted orange fabric of the seats still somehow bright in the dim lighting. There’s enough people here that Jeremy is _sure_ he isn’t going to get to talk to them all, despite having just said to himself earlier how small this precinct is. Still, he makes an effort, and every time someone hands him a celebratory drink, he takes it.

 

///

 

Jeremy’s wake-up routine isn’t much, especially when he’s missing ninety percent of his stuff. It takes a moment to realize that he isn’t going to accidentally kick his cats off his bed (came with the apartment, along with a scuffed up kitchen table and a few chairs, thank god) and after that it’s smooth sailing. Start the coffee machine, take a quick shower, dress, drink said coffee, brush teeth, and leave. His navigation around his new apartment is already so comfortable, it’s like he’s never left Boston.

 

He feels ready for his second day, too, except that nobody has actually told him what he’s to be doing. He dumps his jacket and looks around for Lindsay, but her desk is empty. Gavin’s is, too, but Gavin’s deskmate is there. Jeremy recognizes the trench coat.

 

And it’s not like it’s a far walk from his own desk to any of the others.

 

“Hey Roger!”  
  
There’s two solid seconds of silence before Jeremy gets an eloquent, “Huh?” It takes the guy another second to realise he’s being spoken too, and then Roger tilts his head in a way that is _endearingly_ cute, but Jeremy is much more concerned with the confusion on his face.  
  
“Oi, answer him, Roger!” Gavin appears from behind Jeremy, slings his arms over his monitor, and rests his chin on the top of his hand. Roger crumples up a blank piece of paper and throws it at him, and Gavin almost falls over with the way he jumps back.  
  
“‘Ey, what, what! I was just joinin’ in on Jeremy’s fun, no harm in it-“ another ball of paper hits Gavin in the face, and he squawks. “What happened to team love and stuff,” he coos. “Ryan, my lovely little Ryan.”

Jeremy thinks he goes on like that for a while. He isn’t certain.  
  
He’s kind of too busy groaning. And face palming. He’s a fucking idiot. “Oh god, Roger isn’t anywhere _near_ Ryan.”  
  
_Ryan_ gets a little bashful smile on his face and shrugs a little. “If it helps, my first name isn’t even Ryan, it’s james.”  
  
Jeremy throws up his hands in frustration. “That’s even further away from Roger, Rye!”  
  
“Hey now, that’s not fair! Nicknames are supposed to be just our thing, Rye-bread.”  
  
“What the hell am I then, chopped liver?” Jeremy looks over Gavin’s shoulder to see Michael, hair tousled, one hand up in a questioning half-shrug, the other clutching a cup of coffee, and a dissatisfied look on his face.  
  
“‘Course not, Michael. You’re my boi.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, you’ll tell me that now, but soon as I’m gone you’ll be snugglin’ back up to Ryan like a little parasite. I know what you’re like.”  
  
“I can’t _help_ it, Michael!” The squabbling continues, and Gavin hooks his chin over Michael’s shoulder, which is a ridiculous position to be in when you’re trying to talk to someone. Michael seems to soften, though, despite him pushing Gavin off of him and walking away. Gavin follows after him, still bantering back and forth with him, and Jeremy thinks he sees them bump shoulders and stay there as they walk, but then the break room door closes behind them and they’re gone.

 

There’s a few moments where Jeremy has a decision to make. He could apologize again, although Ryan really seemed unphased. He could introduce himself, like a real actual person would do. Or he could ask the obvious, the question no one seems to answer even though everyone seems to be thinking the same thing.  
  
“So... what’s up with that.”  
  
Jeremy gets to witness a private smile, like Ryan’s proud of  him for cluing in on that. “Ha. You’ll find out very soon that office romance gets... complicated around here. Michael shouldn’t really even be dating a superior, but he and Lindsay make it work-“  
  
“Wait, but I thought-“  
  
Ryan gives him a look that tells him to be patient and then talks right on over him. “That doesn’t stop Michael from giving into Gavin no matter what he wants, though. It’s kind of been like that from the start, and they’ve been working here together for three years. Lindsay’s just waiting for Michael to bring it up to her, lord knows she’s been ready for the three of them to get together for far too long.”

 

Jeremy’s brain kind of short circuits. Office romances in the Boston division were practically forbidden, and Ryan is still kind of a stranger - just minutes ago Jeremy had gotten his name wrong, for god’s sake - but everyone here is so... open about it? He’s still thinking about it, about the difficulties of not being allowed to date at work when you’re too busy to ever see people _outside_ of work, when Ryan cuts through his stream of consciousness.

 

“You got a place to lunch, Jeremy?”

 

Jeremy looks back down at Ryan, who’s taking the time to talk to him despite the fact that Jeremy can see two open folders on his desk and two more poking out of his bag.

 

“Nah. I don’t super know the area yet. Guess I’ll be shit at car patrols for a little while, huh?”

 

Ryan gives one loud laugh. “How do you think I know all the best places to eat?” His grin is wide, and Jeremy is starting to see that food is an easy way into anyone’s heart here. At least the cops-and-donuts stereotype is still true halfway across the country. “Let me know when you’re free for break, I’ll take you out.”

 

Ryan offers his hand.

 

“Hope that isn’t you’re way of telling me I’m on a hitlist now.”

 

“Guess you won’t find out ‘til later, J.”

 

Jeremy shakes it.

 

///

 

“Huh. Kinda like an upgraded KFC.”

 

They end up downtown, at a place that sells mostly comfort food and carbs. Jeremy goes for the fried chicken, subs out the fries for stringbeans, then decides _screw it_ and gets additional garlic fries anyway. He finds a corner table to sit at, and Ryan follows a close few minutes after that, with his own chicken and a stupidly giant sized bowl of mac n cheese with it.

 

At Jeremy’s look, he pulls the tray closer to his chest. “What? It’s good!”

 

Jeremy raises his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t doubt ya, pal.”

 

They fall into a comfortable silence while they eat, hunger taking precedence. The food is good, Jeremy can’t deny that. Ryan knows his stuff when it comes to eating. And the silence is nice, for a time, but once he no longer feels like he’s starving, Jeremy takes the initiative and starts up conversation.

 

“So, Detective Roger Davis. How long have you been with the force?”

 

Ryan snorts. “The force? Like the calvary? I learned to ride horses back in-”

 

“No, you dumbass. Wow, you’re just as bad as Gavin.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Ryan mumbles something about Jeremy starting it, and Jeremy laughs, maybe a little too loud for a public restaurant. Ryan doesn’t even hesitate to use the opportunity to steal three of Jeremy’s garlic fries, and they’re already stuffed happily in Ryan’s mouth before Jeremy can even protest.

 

“You sneaky sonofa bitch.”

 

Ryan smiles with his eyes closed and face tilted up, quiet and content, and that’s just… well, that’s the cutest thing Jeremy has _ever_ seen, but he isn’t going to say so.

 

When his mouth isn’t full, Ryan flips the narrative. “So, what did you do to get yourself here?”

 

“I studied criminal justice, just like everyone else in this whole damn department.”

 

“Ah, I actually started in psychology. Shifted towards forensic psychology, then ended up in the program for criminology. That’s… tangential, though, it’s all the same. Different parts of the same degree, different degrees for the same job.”

 

“You’re tellin’ me, buddy.” Jeremy is… quietly impressed. He’s met enough detectives boneheaded enough to think their ‘gut instincts’ and ability to aim would land them a position as chief. “We’re really out there doin’ everything. It’s like they think we’re each a one man squad. Gotta say though, I’ll take anything over courtroom testimony.”

 

Detective Davis laughs warmly, nodding in agreement. “I’ll take the fresh twenty over a courtroom any day.”

 

“See! You get it. I’ll always be patrol officer at heart, though.”

 

Ryan gives him a goofy, lopsided grin that’s all genuine charm, and then steals more of Jeremy’s fries. They play tug of war with the paper bowl until Jeremy gives up and just pushes it towards Ryan, and maybe steals some of Ryan’s mac n cheese while he’s distracted. Really, it’s all fair play, and he doesn’t feel bad about it when Ryan’s response is a deep, calm laughter. Jeremy’s torn between wanting to make Ryan laugh every day for the rest of his life, and hoping he never has to hear Ryan laugh again, _ever_ , for the sake of his heart.

 

It’s going to be a long day back at the office.

 

///

 

The third transfer shows up on Friday, right before the weekend hits. His desk is pushed up against Michael’s, right next to where Jeremy and Matt’s desks are. Jeremy thinks that maybe it’s a good thing they all work at a criminal investigation department, because it practically takes being a detective to figure out that his name is Alfredo. Everyone refuses to call him anything other than ‘The Sauce,’ and not for the first time Jeremy wonders if the Austin CID has a book to keep track of all the nicknames around here.

 

“No, we don’t, but that’s a _great_ idea Mr. J.”

 

Jeremy groans. “Dear god, Gavvers. Please don’t call me _Mr. J._ ” He gives Gavin a look, but he realizes he’s just said _Gavvers_ , and he thinks to himself _I’m just as bad._

 

Geoff, from across the room, perks up at the sound of his employees suffering. “Is there a problem over there, Mr. J?”

 

Jeremy drops his head into his arms and whines. “You guys are the w _ooooooorst_.” Geoff’s howls reach him all the way from his desk, and Gavin laughs his way over to give Geoff a high five before he wanders off to the copy room to look around for any ‘spare notebooks’ to start cataloguing nicknames in.

 

“Don’t worry, Lil J. Mikey’s got ya. East Coast alliance.”

 

Face still pressed into his arms, words smothered against his skin, Jeremy mumbles out a resigned, “Thanks, Michael.” He feels Michael pat his back twice, then listens as his footsteps retreat to his own desk. Everyone in this god forsaken place is against him, he swears.

 

If only Ryan were here.

 

///

 

Work ends at five. The past two days, Jeremy’s opted for visiting the diner with the rest of the team, but tonight he goes straight home. The moving van is supposed to show up between six and seven, and Jeremy _knows_ their times aren’t reliable. He’d rather be waiting there until eleven than get home and find all his stuff dumped outside.

 

Everything shows up in boxes, save for some of the bigger furniture items. The couch goes right into the living room, the coffee table directly in front of it and the tv stand beyond that, the desk goes in his room, and the rest of the boxes are piled on and beneath the kitchen table.

 

Jeremy tackles the bathroom first, because the smallest room has the smallest amount to unpack. Only a few things go on the countertop or in the shower, since most of it he’s already brought, and a majority of the new stuff goes under the sink. The new shower curtain is almost grey, but he swears it’s got a lavender tint to it, and the bathmat he unrolls is orange to sneak some color into it. Just something subtle, since he plans be subtle absolutely nowhere else in his place.

 

Back in the living room, he thinks to pull out his laptop and start playing some music, before he dives into cutting open boxes and figuring out what’s inside. The labels written in sharpie are _definitely_ not correct.

 

The boxes full of clothes are brought to his room and left opened but unpacked, with the intention of grabbing clothes from the box as he needs them. _Playin’ the long game, Dooley._ Kitchenware is left where it is, and while Jeremy would _love_ to unpack that and actually make a meal for the first time since arriving in Texas, he’s definitely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of kitchen supplies. He’s back upstairs with his books and art supplies, and he unpacks maybe a third of one box before he realizes he doesn’t have a bookshelf, and thinks _damn, guess that’s on the list._

 

The list, of course, doesn’t exist - so he makes one. Unpacks another third of the box until he finds a notepad, buried beneath bound journals and novels, and tears a sheet out that he sticks to the fridge with tape. Temporarily, of course.

 

  * buy bookshelf



 

He doesn’t know how easy that’s going to be, given that he doesn’t have his car yet, but the auto transport is supposed to be bringing it from his parent’s driveway and all the way down to Austin before Monday, so Jeremy keeps his fingers crossed that everything will go smoothly and his insurance untouched.

 

Not…. just for the bookshelf. But partially.

 

Storage space is nice.

 

He makes a note to go to the DMV tomorrow, just to get his license sorted out. No point in waiting for a vehicle if you can’t even legally drive it once it’s arrived.

All of his legal forms had been kept in his bag, but now that the desk is there, he switches them over into the top drawer. After three trips up and down the stairs, he resigns from moving anything else into the bedroom for the night, and gets working on his entertainment system. The tv is easiest to hook up, just plugs into an outlet. His two gaming systems are easy enough to _find,_ but he’d forgotten how annoying it was to plug everything into the back of a tv after not having to do so for so long.

 

By the time the xbox and playstation are plugged in, Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to look for the controllers, let alone batteries. The rest of the room feels plain and cold, and it feels like he’s got more things on his to-do list than he’s got on his already-done list. But he has new blankets, and the beginnings of a real house, so he’s gotta at least _try_ and convince himself that it’s a win. With a sigh he calls it a night, orders takeout (again), and adds a few last things to his list.

 

  * buy bookshelf
  * DMV
  * put art up on walls
  * buy batteries
  * prioritize kitchen
  * groceries
  * believe in yourself!!



 

///

 

Monday’s start isn’t too bad.

 

Trevor’s outside of his office, which apparently used to always be the case, before things picked up. Word of mouth is that he’s given an expectant four weeks from the day for everyone to get comfortable enough, and to get caught up enough on what’s already overdue, that things level off into a normal state of chaos. Alfredo and Matt are both hanging around, and Jeremy thinks it’s pretty brave of them to be so bold with the captain until he finds out the conversation is food based. “Linds made cupcakes. You better hurry, though. Pretty sure Ryan’s already eaten three.” Jeremy is immediately hit with the imagine of Ryan, with a cupcake in each hand and frosting on his face. He smiles at the thought. “Thanks, guys. I’ll have to steal one from him.”

 

He skips his desk - and Lindsay’s - and makes his way straight to Ryan, perching his hips against the edge of the L desk and folding his arms across his chest.

 

“So. I hear you’re holding all the cupcakes hostage, Davis.”

 

Ryan doesn’t even look up. “You’ll never take them alive, JDoolz. You might as well give up now.” Jeremy likes a challenge.

 

“So, mystery man-“

 

“You know… I can actually ride a horse.”

 

“I- okay, what?”

 

“Now I’m a little bit less of a mystery, right?”

 

There’s a really long, quiet second, and then Jeremy starts to lose it at that. He unfolds his arms to hold onto the ledge while he doubles over, and all he can get out is another repetitive, “What?” between the cackles.

 

“Mmm, I’m from Georgia. Horseback tours are actually a thing there, unfortunately.”

 

“Peachy. Is that why you’re so sweet?” It’s not at all the question he was originally trying to ask, but it does succeed in shutting Ryan up long enough for Jeremy to cut through his bullshit. Even though he kinda likes the bullshit. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. My boxes got here Friday, and I made some pretty good headway this weekend, but. There’s a lot, y’know? That’s kinda how moving is. Think you could help me out with the rest this weekend? I’d ask Gavin, but.”

 

“Oh, god, don’t ask Gavin, I’ll help.”

 

“Thanks, Rye.” Jeremy grins at him, snags a cupcake off his plate, and heads back to his own desk. He’s already counting today as a win.

 

///

 

“So. Did we hit everything on your list?”

 

Ryan is sitting on his couch, broken down cardboard boxes at his feet. Jeremy is amazed at how fast unpacking when you have a partner to rationalize for you.

 

“I think so. Got the bookshelf, even unpacked the books. I could actually make dinner now. I guess I could use more art, but that’ll come in time, I think.”

 

“What about the last one?” Ryan asks, and something about his tone sounds fond. Jeremy goes back to the kitchen to check the list, and, yep, there it is.

 

 

  * __believe in yourself!!__



 

 

“God damnit,” he whispers, and it would be a lie to say that Jeremy is not _incredibly_ tempted to hide away in the kitchen until the end of time, or at least until Ryan leaves. But he can be brave, and… Ryan’s here. In the first place. Which means Jeremy _asked_ him here in the first place, so maybe the answer should be obvious. He grabs two water bottles from the fridge and heads back out to the living room, talking as he throws one in Ryan’s direction. “Yeah, Rye. Looks like we hit all the boxes.” And when he smiles at Ryan as he says it, it’s genuine. He’s pretty proud of how well he’s done in just two weeks. Ryan smiles back at him, and yeah, moving was definitely the right choice.

 

///

 

The next month is hectic, but… good. Jeremy likes where he is. He likes where he’s going, too.

 

///

 

“Rye, buddy, your face is waaaay too close to that screen.”

 

Ryan sits back, blinks, and rubs at his eyes. “Yeah, I should- yeah. Thanks.” He turns in his chair, and by turns Jeremy means _completely spins in a circle on his spinny chair for no goddamn reason other than that he’s adorable,_ before he drags his feet across the floor to stop him in front of his drawers. He pulls open the top one, and Jeremy can’t see what he’s grabbing, but then Ryan is turning around and _oh god he wears glasses_ . They’re wide brimmed and a little bit more hipster than Jeremy would have ever pegged him for, and he’s so _fucked._

 

“Did you need something, J?”

 

Jeremy doesn’t know how to explain that he only came over here because he was openly staring, and he saw Ryan hunched over in his chair in some mad unhealthy ways that needed to be stopped. So he doesn’t explain it. “Nope. Just… checking in. See ya, pal!”

 

His legs can’t carry him away fast enough.

 

///

 

Jeremy doesn’t fail to notice that it’s always him going to Ryan’s desk, and never the other way around.

 

///

 

The triad of newcomers tend to make the coffee runs. It’s only half a joke when someone tells them to do their job and run to The Bean Cafe, because everyone is tired of the mediocre coffee in the kitchen, and they may not be interns but they’re definitely underpaid.

 

Matt takes the first run, and Jeremy offers to come with just to help him carry everything. It just sort of becomes tradition for them to go together, which makes it a little more enjoyable and makes them a little less begrudging. At first, they use a written list, taped to the dashboard of Matt’s car. By the fourth trip, they’ve got it memorized.

 

Which means they have blackmail.

 

It doesn’t take long for Geoff to realize his coffee has an inch of sugar in the bottom, or for Jack to grimace in response to the honey that dances atop his latte. They’re just small things, and _usually_ Jeremy is nice enough to have a replacement ready and waiting, but if Alfredo and Matt go alone, everyone is screwed. Lindsay always laughs and takes whatever she’s given, and Michael shrugs and chugs it all anyway with a disgusting lack of emotion on his face. The pair drives Jeremy crazy with their utter invincibility, and it’s only made worse by _Gavin_.

 

Gavin, out of everyone in the office, remains frustratingly untouchable from the coffee shenanigans. He keeps his own tea bags on one of the top shelves in the kitchen cabinets, and while everyone fucks with him _and_ his desk _and_ whatever he’s drinking at the time, no one seems to have the heart to fuck with his actual tea bags ahead of time. Jeremy very quickly starts to see why all three of them - Gavin, Michael, and Lindsay - pair together so well.

 

They’re all fucking unyielding _assholes._

 

_///_

 

Some kind of alarm should be going off. It seems appropriate.

 

It’s the first arsonry case to happen since Jeremy’s been in Austin, and he’s never seen the office get this serious. Or maybe he’s just never seen _Ryan_ get this serious. He’s already got his glasses on,  despite how much he avoids them in daily life, and his face is stoney and cold and _empty_. Jeremy’s not sure he sees any emotion there, except maybe determination. He hadn’t known until this moment that Ryan even specialized in arsonry, and right now he’s definitely three steps behind his partner.

 

It’s unusual, in a terrifying kind of way. Ryan has always waited for him, these past two months, but this time Ryan already has a packed bag on his desk by the time Jeremy is finished being debriefed.

 

“You ready?” Jeremy’s not, but he nods anyway. “Good.”

 

Then Ryan is pulling his trench coat off the back of his chair in one fluid moment. Jeremy previously thought the coat lived there, but apparently not. With both hands around the collar, Ryan swings it behind his shoulders and slips his arms through the sleeves in a single smooth gesture that reeks of confidence. And god, he _looks_ it. Standing tall, back straight, with the strap of his messenger back pulled tight across his shoulder. Jeremy is given a quick “Let’s go,” and then Ryan is walking towards the door with strong, purposeful steps.

 

It’s all Jeremy can do to force himself to chase after him instead of just standing there, so maybe he stares for a little longer than he should have. He grabs his badge off his desk as he runs by, and yeah, the running _does_ kind of give it away, but that doesn’t really matter when he doesn’t hear Jack and Gavin’s distant cooing and catcalling anyway.

 

///

 

The building is definitely gone. It’s hard to get any evidence or kind of lead like that, when there’s almost nothing substantial left. The house had definitely been empty, though; the family had been on vacation for a little over half a week. Long enough that they could rule out an oven left on or a candle still lit. Nope, it was definitely vandalism.

 

The grounds of the house are pretty much ruins, but the backyard has a shed a little ways off from the main building. The dirt between the two is worn, like someone has recently traveled this way a couple of times, but Jeremy is pretty sure it rained only a few days ago.

 

So. Someone new. Someone uninvited.

 

He points this out to Ryan and gets a nod in return. They start their walk towards the shed slowly, taking in the whole scenery. It’s hard to focus, sometimes, with red and blue lights flashing around you. Jeremy pulls down his sunglasses the try and lessen the effect, all the while listing off any ideas that he has for a motive.

 

Ryan is silent the whole walk.

 

The shed is, of course, locked. Jeremy doesn’t like that, but then Ryan frowns, and Jeremy likes that even _less_. “You know how to lock pick?” he asks, just to try and get a gauge on Ryan’s thoughts. He hates the way he feels so alone out here.

 

“I do, actually. Just not with any tools I have on me.”

 

“Alright, then. I got it.”

 

He doesn’t super have a plan. Or, he does, but it’s a stupid one. Ryan is protesting him, though, and Jeremy needs to shut him up and _do_ something. The confidence and strength is alluring, but he definitely misses the ease between them that existed before this moment.

 

“It just needs a little tap.”

 

Jeremy shoots the fucking lock.

 

Ryan doesn’t really flinch, and Jeremy wants to know the story behind that kind of response in particular, but now isn’t the time and Ryan is giving Jeremy a…. face, a face that Jeremy can’t quite distinguish.  “Come on, Tap.”

 

Jeremy shoves his shoulder into Ryan’s at that, and that gets a little smile out of Ryan. It’s enough.

 

///

 

The arsonry was…. a lot.

 

Jeremy is exhausted. It’s not the kind of work he’s used to, his department never really ran him in that direction. He has his paperwork open in front of him, but the words are blurring in front of him, and he’s not even halfway done. The fresh twenty had turned into a fresh twenty six - twenty six straight hours of working, trying to get as much of the evidence as they could while there was _anything_ left. And then the tracking. And then the puzzle solving. It was all just a lot at once; evidence didn’t last forever, but arsonry locations certainly lasted a whole lot _less._

 

Jeremy is vaguely aware that Ryan is around the office somewhere, doing his own thing. He comes back and forth, between his desk and the copy room and the briefing room. When Jeremy had passed the open door earlier, he saw the board was filled with papers and photos and notes and _red string_. All of that is too much for Jeremy too keep up with, and maybe that’s why Ryan is such an expert in this field. He has the stamina and interest to keep up with the immediate work that arsonry demands. The evidence just doesn’t hold up otherwise.

 

Jeremy tries not to think of Ryan and the word stamina in the same sentence after that.

 

The office is warm, at least. Texas heat is brutal, but at least he’s never cold. At some point his mug is drained of coffee, and he can’t bring himself to stand up to make more. He instead leans his elbow on the desk and rests his hand in his palm, settling for minimum energy positions in place of more caffeine. It’s not really a surprise, then, that Jeremy falls asleep. He swears he was working, just in the middle of this sentence, knows his place exactly - but then he’s waking up. He feels warm, or warmer, and the world is hazy around the edges. There’s a weight of something on his shoulder, and it takes a little jostling for Jeremy to realize it’s Ryan’s jacket, draped across his back. He’s sure his cheeks are red and sporting imprints from the cuffs of his shirt.

 

It’s a couple more days before Jeremy finds Ryan in the break room and actually has time to sit down with him. Ryan’s coat is still draped over Jeremy’s desk. Sure, he could just walk over and leave it at Ryan’s desk, that would be easy. But he doesn’t want easy. He wants….

 

Ryan. He wants Ryan.

 

“So, am I gonna unlock you’re tragic backstory now?”

 

Ryan looks up at him from where he had been scribbling in some kind of notebook, plastic fork dropped back into the almost empty tupperware container next to him. Jeremy is leaning against the doorframe, and it takes Ryan a second, but then he’s laughing, and there goes that warm feeling in Jeremy’s chest once again. “No tragic backstory, sorry.”

 

Jeremy sits across from him. “Come on, man, nothing? It’s like you switched to terminator mode the other day.”

 

“Didn’t think you’d seen that movie.”

 

Jeremy kicks at him under the table, but his smile gives him away. “Laugh it up, chump. I’m gonna kick your ass at the next trivia night, just you wait.”

 

“I think you’re gonna be waiting a lot longer than me, Lil J. Especially since you don’t even reach the ‘must be this tall to play’ line yet.”

 

“Hey! Fuck you!” It’s a little more Boston than usually slips out, even through the laughter, but it’s nothing Jeremy can help. Something about this place makes him think of home, and it’s _certainly_ not the way the precinct is run.

 

They devolve into more laughter and shoving and banter, until eventually Jeremy slides over to Ryan’s side. He’d been doin sudoku, and Jeremy picks it back up where Ryan had left off. The conversation is steady, and they scribble little numbers in the corners of boxes they aren’t sure about yet. When Ryan’s lunch ends, ten minutes earlier than Jeremy’s does, he dogears the page and promises to save the rest of it for the next time they hang out.

 

The dumb little act fills Jeremy’s chest with warmth. It’s a small, private moment, and it’s nice. Nothin fancy, just….. nice. Jeremy idly wonders if they could have more of those moments. Being around Ryan is good, even though it reduces him to a first grade vocabulary. He feels good about it.

 

///

 

Jeremy knows he’s screwed before he even makes it to his desk.

 

Michael and Gavin are crowded arounded Ryan’s desk, chatting back and forth and seemingly ignoring whatever kind of protest Ryan is trying to put up. Then Michael catches Jeremy’s eye, elbows Gavin passively, and sends him looking in Jeremy’s direction with a nod of his head. Gavin looks up, grins, and their conversation conveniently gets louder after that.

 

“I think you should wear the jacket more, Ryan.”

 

Ah, the jacket. Jeremy had brought it back to Ryan some time after their chat in the breakroom yesterday. Ryan hadn’t been there, but at the time Jeremy felt like he didn’t need the excuse of a jacket just to talk to Ryan again. Their hang out had fixed that, for sure.

 

And apparently caused some other problems, too.

 

“Yeah! It fits you so _good_ , Rye-bread. Although you could probably get it fit, it’s a little bit loose on you. Tighter would suit you better, don’t you s’pose?”

 

It’s not a question Ryan’s meant to answer. “You guys know I don’t wear this coat as a fashion piece-”

 

“But you _could._ ”

 

“And you _should._ ”

 

The fucking _devils._ Jeremy is sure his face is red as all hell. He drops his bag in his desk chair and makes a beeline for the kitchen, hoping to avoid the tail end of the conversation. Well, what he hopes is the tail end. He doesn’t know how long this conversation could go on for, considering it’s _Michael and Gavin_.

 

He doesn’t have any luck either way, because their beady little eyes latch onto him trying to escape, and immediately reel him in.

 

“Lil J! Doesn’t Ryan look good in his swanky ass coat?” Michael’s voice is loud enough to fill the whole office, but he’s so direct that it’s like there’s no one there but him and Jeremy. Jeremy, who doesn’t stop walking. _They all probably know, too._ “Too early. Need coffee.” _God, why wasn’t the kitchen further, why didn’t it have a door, or really any kind of walls-_

 

He hears Ryan’s return, but this time it’s more hushed. “See? He doesn’t like it.”

 

Aw, shit.

 

Jeremy had just played himself.

 

He makes the coffee first, mostly to keep up the act, but it’s clear it isn’t working anyway by the look of Michael’s grin and Gavin’s high pitched squeeing as he approaches. Jeremy ignores them. “What’s this about your badass jacket?”

 

“It’s not-”

 

“It is.” Jeremy doesn’t even let Ryan finish protesting. “It’s fucking badass, Ryan. Do you know how terrifying you were the other day? That thing fucking flourishes behind you like a damn anime character.” Ryan gets a sneaky little smile on his face at that point, and Jeremy smiles back. Gavin does some kind of joyous little clapping off to the side, not that Jeremy sees, too focused on Ryan. His voice is a little softer when he speaks. “It’s a good look, Rye. For once, Gavin is right. You should wear it more.”

 

Ryan hums in acknowledgement, but his smile is growing. “Mmm. I’ll think about it.”

 

“Can’t ask for anything more than that, pal. Looks like my job here is done.” He pats Ryan on the back once, leaves his hand on Ryan’s shoulder for maybe a few seconds too long.

 

Michael and Gavin are already gone by the time he thinks to look back over.

 

_Damn. Played twice in one morning._

 

_///_

 

Jeremy wakes up the next morning in an unfortunate predicament.

 

He’s warm and comfortable, but he could be even more so if he only had a body here with him. Tall and big, messy sandy hair in the way, a pair of strong arms around him. He thinks about Ryan. He thinks about Ryan a lot, these days. It’s kind of hard not too, and Jeremy wants to say he doesn’t know why, but he can’t really lie to himself forever.

 

He feels kind of guilty, but after laying there for a while, he lets his hands wander across the v of his hips. It’s tantalizing and painful in all the right ways, but eventually he kicks off his blanket and takes his hand back, only to spit in his palm and direct his fingers back under the elastic of his boxers. And if it isnt a fucking great stress reliever, if nothing more.

 

Yeah. It’s probably nothing more.

 

///

 

Matt’s in the copy room when the murmur of coffee starts passing through the room. Jeremy resigns himself to going alone, but Gavin is leaning across his desk before his keys are even in his hands.

 

“Need a partner?” he asks.

 

They’re in the car just long enough for Jeremy to turn the keys in the ignition before Gavin pounces.

 

“So, Lil J. When’re you gonna shag Ryan?”

 

Jeremy sputters, and boy oh _boy_ is he glad he wasn’t driving yet, or he might’ve veered off the side and straight over the curb. He takes a deep breath, side eyes Gavin, and focuses on pulling out of the parking lot.

 

Gavin’s voice gets very tender. “You know it’s alright, yeah?”

 

Oh. Oh, this was one of _those_ kind of talks. Jeremy’s heart gives out a little bit, and he can’t explain why that feeling is a _good_ thing.

 

“Yeah, Gav. I promise I know.” He should be watching the road, but he does glance over, and he catches Gavin smiling to himself.

 

The light changes to yellow, and he slows. “I’m just taking my time. I’m not in a rush, y’know?”

 

Gavin nods, even though he knows Jeremy shouldn’t be looking at him. “I get ya. But I think you should consider moving a little less slow. No reason to waste time that could be spent happy together.”

 

“I am happy.”

 

Gavin’s still smiling by the time they reach the parking lot. “Happi _er_ , you bastard.” Jeremy can’t help but notice he sounds fond.

 

They place the orders inside. “Eventually,” Jeremy says, “we should really look for a place with mobile ordering. It would be a lot kinder than dropping a thirteen-order turd on them.” Gavin smothers his laughter in his hands in a way that tells Jeremy he agrees, no matter how stupidly it was said.

 

And Jeremy knows Gavin is watching. But he’s feeling thoughtful today, and a little bit sappy, so he orders the donuts anyway. For once Gavin doesn’t say anything, even though he knows that they aren’t for Jeremy.

 

They’re two steps into the bullpen when Gavin abruptly yells. “Oi! Who wants coffee! Come and get it, ya chumps, I’m not walking around to everybody!” Jeremy’s hands are already over his ears, but then Gavin winks at him and passes him two cups and the donuts, and Jeremy understands.

 

“Thanks, pal,” he whispers.

 

“‘Course,  Lil J. You may not be my boi, but you’re still _a_ boy.”

 

“I hate that I can hear how you’re spelling it.”

 

“Naw, you love me. Now go on, get out of here!”

 

Jeremy slips past anyone who’s gotten up to get their drinks. He sees Michael rolling his eyes, and Geoff, who’s making a show of moving extremely slowly. Jack laughs behind him, and Jeremy is grinning by the time he makes it to Ryan’s desk.

 

“Got something for you, buddy.”

 

Ryan looks up, one pen stuck behind his ear and another in his hand. _Looks like someone got distracted and lost their place, huh?_

 

“Donuts! Wait. I didn’t think donuts were part of my order.”

 

Jeremy cocks his hips and idly loops a thumb through the loops around his belt. “Weren’t they? Hmm, must’ve been my bad. Guess you’ll have to take one for the team and be stuck with them.” He doesn’t give Ryan a chance to respond, just winks and walks back to his desk. He thinks maybe he should have stayed, should have chatted some or asked to take a coffee break together, but he…. can’t.

 

Holy shit, he can’t.

 

///

 

Jeremy has the following Thursday off, so when he shows up at the office, Jack does a double take. “Jeremy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Leave.”

 

Jeremy laughs, loud and unashamed. “I will, I will. I just gotta pick up some of the paperwork I left here yesterday.”

 

“You do know the point of having a day off from work is to not be working, right?”

 

Jeremy shrugs. “I wanna be caught up, figure I can put on a show or something and knock it out.”

 

Jack doesn’t look super convinced. It’s kind of sweet, actually, how much of a mother hen he is to the other officers. “Or you could, I don’t know, actually relax and watch something. Finish the paperwork tomorrow, Lil J.”

 

Lindsay leans around her monitor to look at Jack. “Is Tapp ever really off?”  
  
“No,” Jeremy cuts in, “The Tapp man _lives_ on duty.” His accent is stronger like this, when he pretends to be a real detective instead of an officer that just wears the name of one. He likes this persona that’s spread around the office like an inside joke. It’s been fun to see what everyone comes up with when they create their own stereotype-based personas.  
  
“Bet you got your uniform on under those civvie clothes.”  
  
Jeremy smiles, points a finger accusingly at her. “Why you so worried about what’s under my clothes, Linds?”

  
“Oh, ya know, asking on Ryan’s behalf.” Jeremy chokes.

 

His face has gotta be red, but he hopes it’s quasi-hidden when he looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Not you too. Gavin already talked to me last week, you know.”

 

Jack’s laughter is ringing around them. He somehow pulls off a look that is both jolly and smug, and Jeremy hates it. “Oh, she knows. That’s exactly why she’s asking, what’s taking you so fucking long?”

 

“Oh my god, I’m resigning.” The laughter follows him back to his desk. He ignores the _No you won’t!_ that Lindsay yells across the office and books it to his car. Some day off.

 

///

 

It doesn’t end up being a big moment.

 

Maybe that speaks to everything about them, if he has to get poetic about it. They’ve sort of always been comfortable around each other, like they were meant to exist together, and Jeremy has never questioned it.

 

Jeremy waves to Ryan at the end of the day, but he’s beckoned over. When Ryan wants to show him something - and shyly asks Jeremy if he can, whether he’d admit it was bashful or not - Jeremy says yes. They steal away to the top of the building, up to the roof hatch, and Jeremy has never been here before.

 

It’s not what he’s expecting.

 

There’s a lot of green, and a lot of pink and purple and blue. Plants fill up almost an entire ledge, with spots in between for sitting. It’s mostly a lot of ivy, and lot of plants that grow close to the ground. Nothing that’s loud or visible from the ground, but it’s plenty pretty to look at from up close.

 

And that’s where they end up, sat by the edge and watching the sky change hues.

 

“How did you convince them to let you do this?”

 

Ryan’s laugh is deep, and Jeremy has to fight the urge to place his hand on Ryan’s chest to feel the vibration. “I didn’t. I’m not sure they even know it’s up here.”

 

Ryan is quiet out here, in a content kind of way, and Jeremy feels like there’s so much more to him still. He’s kind and ridiculous and theatrical. He puts his best effort into all the worst things, and he loves to eat so much, and Jeremy wants to take him out to dinner every day for the rest of their very short lives. He wants to get to wake up feeling safe, the way he does when they’re paired up together on a case. He wants to feel understood, the way he does when someone says anything and Jeremy and Ryan go to give each other _a look_ at the same exact moment. He wants to feel special and prioritized, the way he does right now. He doesn’t know how many friends Ryan has shown his hidden garden to, but Jeremy has a feeling it isn’t many. At least, not many that Ryan has taken up with him, not many that have sat with him and asked him the names of all the plants they can see.

 

But Jeremy has Ryan list off names for every plant he can get his hands on, because that’s just how he is. He can’t see Ryan’s soft smile as he watches Jeremy talk to the plants, or the adoring look on Ryan’s face as Jeremy gently shakes their tiny leaves like hands, but he also doesn’t need to in order to feel like their sharing something here.

 

And when Jeremy looks back up, he feels kind of breathless. Half of Ryan’s face is showered in golden light, and deep, dramatic magentas paint his angles in crisp shadows. His eyes are bracingly blue against the orange, looking right back at Jeremy, and for a moment they do nothing but breathe together.

 

And that’s just it, really. That’s when he knows he has feelings he can’t escape from, and that makes it so much fucking _harder_ when Ryan says his break is done, but that Jeremy can stay if he’d like.

 

“I like to name my plants after officers, just for fun. If you figure out which is yours, I’ll tell you that you’re right.” He waves, and smiles, and Jeremy does the same. All the harder to swallow that lump in his throat as he watches Ryan walk back down the stairs, and the metal door swing shut behind him.

 

///

 

Ryan comes up to him in the morning, when Jeremy is forty minutes into his shift but maybe twenty minutes into actually being awake. He’s kind of surprised, and thinks he might be asleep still, but no - Ryan is really there, in his space, hip pressed against the edge of Jeremy’s desk and arms folded across his chest.

 

_That shirt is…. too tight to wear to work, Ryan, dear god._

 

“Hey, J? You there?”

 

Jeremy startles and looks up. Ryan is outrageously tall when he's the one standing, an effect increased tenfold when Jeremy is also sitting. Yeah, Jeremy is starting to see why maybe he should have stuck to his perch atop Ryan’s desk.  “Huh?”

 

“I brought you coffee.” He’s talking a little bit slow, like Jeremy’s going to have trouble keeping up. But true to his word, he hands Jeremy a warm paper cup, and Jeremy can’t help but pry open the lid and peek inside. “Did you…. Know my order?”

 

“It only seemed fair. You know everyone else’s.”

 

“That's kinda part of my job at this point, Rye. But... that's sweet. Thank you.”

 

Jeremy kind of wants to stare at this paper cup forever, but then Ryan’s talking, and he doesn’t want to miss it. Even if it’s hard to look Ryan in the eyes because of how piercing they are. His expression is open, though, and that honestly has always set Jeremy at east. “I just… wanted to give something back to you. I wanted to show you that I pay attention. All the little things you do or say… I’m not as good at showing people I’ve noticed, or that I appreciate them, but I do watch. And remember. And I appreciate you a lot, Jeremy.”

 

It’s kind of awkward for Jeremy to still be seated, at this point, but he doesn’t know if it would ruin the moment to stand up in the middle of this - so he finds middle ground. “I know. I mean, I didn’t _know_ , but I… figured? Come on, buddy, let’s take a walk. I can’t wake up at my desk.” He stands, stretches, and feels Ryan’s eyes linger on him.

 

They take a left outside the building, walking in the direction of nothing. The parking lot is empty of people, but there are trees by the edges providing shade, and they move towards there in case the sunlight brings up the temperature while they’re walking. They don’t make it to the grass before Ryan is slipping his hand into Jeremy’s, and it’s only then that Jeremy realizes he didn’t even bring the coffee Ryan got him. It’s just sitting on his desk, and he feels like a dumbass, but he gently squeezes Ryan’s hand in his to remind him that they’re both there and both okay.

 

“Is that what this is, then?”

 

“I think it should be. I would like it to be.”

 

They reach the tree line.

 

“I think it should be, too.”

 

Jeremy folds up against Ryan, arms wrapping gently around his waist and fingers rubbing small, thoughtless circles into his back. He feels Ryan pull him closer, and he lets himself breathe in slowly. It’s still early enough that he can hear some birds around somewhere, and mixed in with it is the steady thrum of Ryan’s heart, beating within his chest. They spend just a few moments like that, with Jeremy’s face pressed against Ryan’s neck and Ryan’s nose buried in Jeremy’s hair.

 

_Soft. I could get used to this._

 

A finger beneath Jeremy’s chin lifts up his face, and then Ryan is slowly leaning in to press their mouths together. Their eyes are both closed, and Jeremy thinks he might be shaking, just a little bit. Ryan makes a pleased humming noise, and Jeremy can feel the vibrations on his lips. The thought reminds him, though-

 

“I wanna feel your laughter.” His hands are brought around from their place on Ryan's back, now pressed flat up against Ryan's chest.

 

“You want me to laugh on command?” Ryan protests, though he’s clearly fighting a smile.

 

“Yeah, I wanna,” Jeremy insists.

 

Ryan _does_ actually laugh at that, and Jeremy feels like his fingertips are made of sunshine as he feels the deep rumbles of it. He leans up to press a kiss to Ryan’s jaw, and maybe they spend a few more moments out there than they should, looking each other in the eyes.

 

If everyone in the office is equally distracted by looking out the windows, smiles on their faces, then who’s to say.

 

///

 

It’s declared proven, then, that their tactics work. Everyone gives them shit when they come back in, not even pretending to have not been watching. Gavin tortures Jeremy for _days_ , and Jeremy wants to rip out his hair some of the time, but mostly he's just happy.

 

Lindsay swears that Michael and Gavin are next.

**Author's Note:**

> The jacket-blanket scene was inspired by Bara Kicks’ comic, found [here](https://bara-kick.tumblr.com/post/181859086405/your-drawing-of-det-tapp-with-the-too-long-sleeves).
> 
> Thank you for reading! I've been thinking about the boys' detective personalities for ages, I had so much fun finally getting to put something down for it! Lots of love to Futureboy, SmittenBritten, and Waffle-O for being huge inspirations and writing some of my favorite jeremwood pieces.
> 
> I'm not on pillowfort yet, but you can still find me on tumblr at donvex/ahdonvex if you wanna message me!


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